


One Foot In Sea, One On Shore

by deathmallow



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, PostWar, giftfic, victor family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathmallow/pseuds/deathmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick thinks about the nature of home when making a birthday gift for Annie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Foot In Sea, One On Shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabaceanbabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabaceanbabe/gifts).



> A giftfic for sabaceanbabe. Happy Birthday! :D

Finnick got the idea from Haymitch's geese. Well, that and Maggie who adored them. They’d all chuckled at the two birds that had taken up residence there after Haymitch brought them back from the woods, and all Haymitch would say on it, nodding towards the two black-and-grey birds was, _The one couldn’t fly and the other one wouldn’t leave it. Must be mates. Tried to fight me off too. Wasn’t about to leave ‘em for the bobcats._ Typical Haymitch.

So the geese had settled in and assigned themselves to guarding the Abernathy house, probably more effective than any watchdog. Until they’d accepted him, even Finnick had risked one or the other of them honking and trying to take flight and attack. He found out the reason for that: they’d laid a clutch of eggs. Geese and humans both seemed equally dedicated in defense of their young: watching Haymitch, Johanna, and the two geese over the summer, both couples paying rapt attention to baby Wally and the gaggle of tiny geese, Finnick couldn’t help but smile. Loyal, sort of fierce, and utterly devoted to each other and to their children: looked like the two of them had found the appropriate pets.

Looking at Maggie and then baby Dylan, growing bigger and stronger and livelier by the day, he thought about District Four and how someday, they might go back. He wished he could teach them about fishing, and more than just the trout in the mountain streams. He missed it still, the familiar rhythms and accents, the smell of the marsh in the morning as a fishing boat headed out into the bay. He missed a place where there was no winter. He wondered if his children would ever see that. He and Annie talked about it some nights in the quiet after they put the kids to bed. A little game, just memories and sensations and moments they missed. They wouldn’t tell the others. Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta were born to this place, and even Johanna had adjusted well to its mountains and forests, plus being married to a native of this territory helped her belong.

Four and its ways was home still in his heart, but everyone that had tied him to that place was gone. So Twelve had become home too, because his family, everyone he loved and who loved him, was right here in the Village. It was a divided sense of belonging that still tore both him and Annie sometimes.

It was July and he was cleaning some game with Peeta and Haymitch. Maggie and Posy Hawthorne chased some of the fluffy goslings around the green as Maggie crowed in delight. Wally and Dylan were napping together on the porch, one dark-haired boy and one fiery bronze, as Annie and Katniss and Johanna were talking about something, heads bent together in some kind of conversation as they looked over at him and Haymitch and Peeta gave some knowing laughs. 

It came over him in a flash, bittersweet realization and he said to Annie that night, “Maggie and Dylan belong here already, don’t they? They’ll have friends here. This will be the place they know.” He wasn’t sure he had the right to cut them loose from all these ties because he and Annie were still homesick.

She cuddled a bit closer against his side and she was silent for a little while as she thought her own answer over. That was Annie; so rarely impulsive, and he knew when she did speak up it would be her own true feeling, well-examined. “No point saying what may or may not happen. But maybe we need to be ready to stay rather than telling ourselves it’s only temporary. They keep saying national travel will get cheap and easy in the next few years, so…if we do stay, at least we could always visit.”

“I miss the bayou,” he murmured to her again, feeling it twist at his heart, like he was losing some part of himself to give that up. “I’ll always miss it, and sometimes when I wake, before I’m all back to myself, I’ll dream I’m there.” 

“I do too.” Her fingers were gentle on his face, brushing the hair back from his brow. “We’ll make sure they know where we come from, the three of them.”

“Three…?” he asked, barely daring to breathe. His hand slipped down to rest on her stomach. Hers came down and covered it, her fingers squeezing his, and her smile was luminous with joy. He knew the others would probably have some kind of bawdy remarks about three kids in three years, but he didn’t care.

He ended up watching the geese again in the morning, a little piece of the wild that had learned to thrive here. Maybe he could bring both of them a little bit of Four that would likewise belong here too.

Annie’s birthday was in a little over a month, so he had to work fast. Recruiting Haymitch and Peeta was easy. When Annie asked why a hole had suddenly appeared in the backyard, Haymitch said with a smirk, “It’s for hiding the bodies, Annie. Don’t ask for details and you can’t be held responsible.”

Considering he was well aware there were mass graves here in Twelve Finnick thought it was a peculiar remark to make, but that was Haymitch’s way of dealing with things sometimes, that almost unbearable black humor. “We’re making a pond, love,” he said. “I thought it would be pretty to have one back here. Nicer than just a plain lawn.” Besides, there was something really satisfying about tearing up a Capitol-planned lawn and imposing his own plan on it.

Annie didn’t point out that there was a pond already in the middle of the Village green. “It’ll be nice,” she agreed. From the way she gave him a slight smile before she turned back towards the house, maybe she knew what he was up to. Chances were that was true—Annie was perceptive as anyone he’d ever known.

Back in Four, the pond in the Bayou had koi fish in it, for the fishing district. Breeding them was a business in Four, as the Capitol tourists had loved to drag a baby fish home as a souvenir. He didn’t doubt most of them ended up dead quickly because their new owners had no idea how to take care of them or inclinations to give them the attention and space they needed. But the koi in the Bayou pond had thrived, and he remembered them eagerly surfacing as someone approached, as if recognizing a friend. One of them, a black, orange and white one, had even taken food pellets from his hands. He remembered passing hours at the pond with Annie, doing nothing much but talking and feeding the fish, enjoying the calm and peace. He remembered Carrick and Mags and Shad and Darla and all the rest of them there too. It had been their place, all of the Four victors. He wasn’t going to force the pond here in the middle of the Village to fit that vision, but here, in their backyard, this was theirs to shape as they would.

They dug the pond and an ugly hole in the dirt quickly took form. They lined the walls with rocks, made a waterfall from stepwise rock shelves. Peeta’s artistic eye helped greatly there and he made some suggestions Finnick quickly saw were made with an eye to beauty. He called up one of the koi breeders in Four. When the next train arrived a week later, he claimed a water pump, a large case of fish food, and a tank with a dozen fish at the station.

He set up the pump and got the waterfall flowing, and then asked Annie to the backyard for it. Haymitch and Peeta didn’t need explanation; they’d understood he was grateful for their help but he wanted this moment for the two of them. “Here,” he said, handing her one of the small clear water-filled boxes that had been used for shipping, with a little orange-and-white blotched koi in it.

She carefully tipped it into the pond, and it began swimming slowly around the edges, as if exploring this new home and enjoying the sense of space and freedom. They released the rest and the water was full of color—metallic golden, black-orange-white, steely blue-grey, black and red. Handing her a pinch of pellets, he smiled at her. “They’re probably hungry after the journey.” Annie laughed and pitched the pellets one by one, watching the fish come and snap them up.

“We’ll have to move them inside for the winter,” Finnick told her, smiling sheepishly as he added, “since sounds like they don’t like the cold.”

“They’ll fit right in with us then,” she told him, slipping her arm around him and leaning into him as they watched the languid movements of the fish in the water. 

“They’ll be far less obnoxious than the geese too,” he teased her.

““Thank you,” she said softly. “This is perfect. It’s…home.” It was the happy memories of Victors’ Bayou, and looking at it, he felt more at ease. Maybe this little piece of Four would be able to thrive here too. Maybe they too would belong.

He leaned down and kissed her lightly. “Happy Birthday.”


End file.
